


Foreplay

by firesign10



Series: Foreplay Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jared, Club Owner Jared, Club Sex, Hooker Jensen, M/M, Rough Sex, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Toppy Jared, Toppy Jensen, night club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:02:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesign10/pseuds/firesign10
Summary: Jared Padalecki's the king of a nightclub chain" Foreplay. It's the hottest club in town. Jensen Ackles, 'entertainer', moves from the NYC club to the flagship in Long Beach, CA. When he comes under Jared's eye, the sparks flare. Jared may be toppy, but Jensen has a mind of his own.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Series: Foreplay Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104029
Comments: 16
Kudos: 151
Collections: 2020 Supernatural Reversebang Challenge





	Foreplay

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SPN Reverse Bang as a pinch-hit for the lovely Darklittleheart. I liked her prompt art from the get-go, so I was very happy to get to play with it! Please see her [Art Post here,](https://darklittleheart96.tumblr.com/post/636182619400306688/) and...stay tuned ;-)

The dance floor at Foreplay is filled with bodies, shaking and grooving to the best techno and house beats, seasoned with recent hits. Perfume, sex, and money all combine for a potent mix. There's just enough light to illuminate the faces glazed with booze, drugs, lust, or all three. Hands slide and grope, hips shake, breasts threaten to escape the constraints of spandex or silk. Of course there is no smoking, but there's just enough fog machine to provide colored wisps and wafts drifting sensually in the air.

The rest of the club is darker; booths and tables dim with little glowing gem lamps so people can find their drinks. Purple, fuchsia, and blue light ropes outline the bar, the bottle displays behind it, the edge of the dance floor, and other random surfaces. Laser lights flash and spin, catching the sparkle of sequins, the glimmer of satin. It's all seductive, mysterious, and so, so sexy.

Beautiful people are everywhere, men and women alike. Sure, not everyone is. There's the people who wish they were beautiful, the ones who pursue the beauty, who claim it for precious moments spent in dark alcoves, intimate seating behind glittery veils. Almost private...but not quite. The aroma of sex is heavy around the club perimeter, enhanced by the sounds of passion, the grunts and sighs of satisfaction. Bodies and limbs are silhouetted during acts of licentiousness.

Newcomers think, did I see them...? Was that...? Are they really...?

Yes, you did. It was. They are.

Anything goes at Jared's club. Anything--anyone--can be bought.

And Jared is king.

Jared relaxes in his personal booth. It takes up a large corner of the back wall so he can see everything. The DJ is diagonally opposite him, a glass booth with more of the colored lighting and a sound system to weep for. Jared watches, but he also circulates. He greets the rich and powerful that frequent Foreplay, bartering favors and deals amid the sex and drugs. He flirts. He makes sure everything looks seamless, even though his club manager handles the nuts and bolts. A word from Jared, and changes are made immediately.

Joining Jared in his booth are his club managers, Chad Murray and Stephen Amell. Stephen is the business brains, and Chad takes care of the talent. Dancers are an important part of the club's atmosphere; there are the tantalizing cage dancers in their sexy outfits, whipping the crowd up. Sometimes a stage rises up from one side of the club and live talent is featured. Jared likes to see live shows, and Chad culls the best burlesque and exotic dancers around.

Dancers are not the only talent to procure, though. Not all of the beautiful people in the crowd are merely club-goers. Some of them provide other services upon request and payment. Some of the parties behind the glittery veils are not dates, but customers. Males and females are available for just about any sexual service for a fee. Where else can the portly, sausage-fingered business magnate get a blowjob from an ethereal twink? Or be ridden by a Beyonce look-alike? Where can the rich bitch social doyenne get fucked silly by a swarthy, muscular Greek thirty-five years her junior? All that and so, so much more, for what Jared considers to be very reasonable prices.

Sitting literally at Jared's right hand is Tom Welling. Tom is as tall as Jared--an impressive six foot five--but with a stockier build compared to Jared's leaner one. Not that Jared isn't in peak shape; he works out regularly, always pushing himself, and his ripped physique shows it. He's just naturally a little rangier than Tom. He and Tom have been friends forever; no one really knows how long, but it seems like most of Jared's thirty-two years. Tom's blue eyes watch Jared's back at all times. He's Jared's bodyguard and confidant--Tom's quieter nature balances Jared's more volatile one.

Also at Jared's table are a few regular dancers that are close to the inner circle. Alona is a tall, slim blonde who can deal a mean poker hand as well as blow your mind with her mouth. Cindy contrasts as a sultry brunette, dark eyes that look demure, but a body that is anything but. Matt is also dark-haired, but his green eyes sparkle over a chiseled chest that is usually bare. They are all quick-witted and fun. Jared's fucked all of them, singly and in various groupings. All three are versatile lovers, exciting and very...bendy.

As Jared looks around, though, he's a little bored. Time for a bit of a shake-up, he thinks. 

"Chad, we need to rotate some people around. Send this DJ to California, and give us the New York guy. Worthy, I think? He'll give us a fresh sound. And mix up some of the dancers, I don't care who goes where. About half of them. Also the hookers--half of them too. I don't want to alienate the regulars, just stir things up."

He winks at Alona, Cindy, and Matt. "Don't worry, you guys are staying." They all laugh nervously. Jared raises his glass of Beluga Gold Line vodka and toasts them. As he sips, his lips curl in an evil smirk. 

"For now." 

He smiles to himself as he rises and starts walking the club, knowing he's left three stricken faces behind him. He'll have to give them a nice tip later. Except he is getting a little tired of Alona's snark. She's starting to get a little full of herself. Perhaps she needs to visit the Chicago club. He'd like a new blonde.

Jensen grabs a water bottle as he enters the small break room for the dancers and 'entertainers', as they are referred to. He's an 'entertainer', providing diversion for men and women alike. Personally he prefers men, but he doesn't get a choice here.

Of course, 'entertainers' means prostitutes.

Jensen sucks and fucks club patrons for money, a share of which he gets to keep. It's enough to live on in a rather frugal fashion, but the tips are fantastic. Jensen is a master at his trade; he can bring a woman to climax in six minutes with his mouth, ten with his cock. He knows every trick for a blowjob. He can be timid, twinky, bossy, or all three by turns. Jensen's only stipulation is that with men, he tops. That's non-negotiable. It took some doing, but after his first rave reviews, Jensen didn't have to argue with the management any more.

James Patrick Stuart, the New York City club manager, is not bad as managers go. Jensen's had worse. Stuart runs things efficiently, backed by his strong arm dude, Benito Martinez, who nobody argues with. The best part is Stuart doesn't ask Jensen for "favors." He's had too many employers who consider that a perk. Jensen will fuck anyone for money, but freebies are only at his discretion.

He grabs a packet of baby wipes and cleans himself off. His cock is covered with lube and spunk. Fortunately, this was his last job of the night. Jensen's required to service three parties a night, but not more than that. He's a prime draw, and Stuart doesn't want to hurt him or have him burn out.

Jensen looks in the mirror as he drinks and cleans himself up. He knows he's beautiful. He'd have to be stupid or blind otherwise, and he's neither. Huge green eyes, framed with thick, dark, fucking curly lashes. Good cheekbones. Light brown hair that he keeps short and tousled as a matter of convenience, so you can't tell if he just had sex. And of course, there's his mouth.

He hated his mouth growing up. A boy in innocent childhood, in awkward adolescence, doesn't need to hear the same thing all the time. Cocksucking lips. Fuckable mouth. Put it all together with the lashes meant getting called girly boy. The first time he was shoved to his knees and had a dick pushed between his lips, he finally understood what they meant.

And after that, he owned it. Want that mouth? Fork it over. Spew jizz all over those angelic features? That's extra. Get fucked with his big, beautiful dick? Here's the fee list. And he always uses condoms.

Now he's twenty-three and working at a top club, the swankiest, richest club in town. He's still a whore, but damn if he isn't an expensive whore. Jensen holds his head high. Nobody's looking down at him for being a hooker.

An 'entertainer'.

Stuart calls Jensen over when he emerges from the dressing room. Jensen braces himself. Since that had been his third customer of the night, he hoped Stuart wasn't there to tell him of a 'special request'.

But that wasn't it.

"Our club owner, Mr. Padalecki, is mixing up the dancing and entertaining staff between locations. You're going to the flagship club at Long Beach." Stuart checks his phone. "He wants you ready to start next weekend."

Jensen is both shocked and pissed. A week. A week to move across the country.

But the flagship. Higher fees. And he'd be under the direct eye of Jared Padalecki. Of course Jensen had seen Padalecki during NYC visits. Tall, dark, and handsome as fuck. Now that man could get freebies anytime. Just recalling Padalecki made Jensen's cock perk up a little.

"Okay," Jensen replies. "Can I have the rest of the week off to get ready?"

Stuart's mouth, surprisingly prim for running a club like this, purses. Then he sighs. "Fine. Can't have Mr. Padalecki unhappy with his new pro."

"Thanks," says Jensen dryly. "And it's 'entertainer'." He walks away from Stuart's huffy face, although behind Stuart, Jensen saw Benny snicker.

Jared's on his way to the club early tonight. The new talent--dancers and entertainers alike--are starting tonight. He and Chad are going to check them out, make sure that they are in fact up to the standards of Foreplay. Jared hopes there's a blonde he likes, because Alona is in Chicago now. She wasn't too happy about it, but it wasn't like she had a real choice. It was Chicago or the unemployment line.

Alona's no fool. She knew what side her bread was buttered on.

Nine new people altogether are on board--four dancers and five entertainers, a mix of men and women. Jared and Chad look the dancers over first. Foreplay's dance mistress has already checked out their moves. While Foreplay doesn't really employ a dance mistress full time, they do have a professional come in regularly to keep everyone's skills up to snuff, and sometimes choreograph some new moves. She's a live wire herself. Danneel Harris' red hair is the tip-off to her feisty personality. She doesn't put up with any shit either. She and Jared fucked a couple of times, but Jared prefers bed mates who are more malleable.

Jared glances over the dancers, who are all lithe and attractive. A couple of them preen, hoping to catch his eye, but nothing turns him off more than attention-seeking. He leaves them to Chad, and moves on to the entertainers.

 _Two_ blonds, one of each flavor. Jared's evening is looking rosier. The man is Alex Calvert, a wholesome-looking lad with a DiCaprio air that ought to bring in the bucks. The woman is Nicky Aycox, petite with a blonde pixie cut that makes her look both innocent and fey. Nice. Jared likes them both. Maybe even together.

The other two are Osric (Really? Call him Oz, Jared says), a slight Asian man, deceptively slim until he takes his shirt off, and turns out to be nicely muscled and super limber. Last is Julie, a redheaded woman with soulful eyes. Those eyes combined with her demure manner should rope in the new customers, especially the shy ones. Jared has no interest in these two, but he thinks they will do well.

Jared turns back to Chad, who has just finished turning the dancers over to Ruth Connell, who handles wardrobe, i.e. the crazy, sexy outfits for the dancers. Ruth is tiny, and her Scottish accent gives her a motherly air as she clucks over the dancers, herding them away to get ready for tonight.

"Aren't we supposed to have one more entertainer?" Jared asks.

Chad checks his tablet. 

"Yep, he's on his way. He--"

Jared holds up a hand. "I don't care why he's late. He's late. Dock him fifty."

Chad grins. "You got it."

"I'm going to get some food with Tom. Bring the late one to my booth later."

Chad nods, and Jared goes in search of Tom. He's flirting with a new bartender, a bald guy who has Tom half-entranced. The bartender nods respectfully to Jared when he approaches.

"Evening, Mr. Padalecki."

"Evening..." Jared says, turning to Tom with raised eyebrows. 

"Rosey. Mike Rosenbaum." Tom supplies.

"Rosey. Please be sure to send a bottle of Crystal Skull to my table when I return, and keep some Shiner Bock on ice for me. Dinner, Tom?"

"Sure thing, Jay." Jared moves away, but out of the corner of his eye, he spies Tom giving Rosey's hand a squeeze.

"Such a romantic," Jared teases Tom over dinner. Tom laughs.

"Fuck you. One day, you're gonna get smacked by Eros yourself."

Jared scoffs. "Never."

After dinner they return to the club, settling down at their corner booth. Chad comes over and bumps knuckles with Jared.

"I've got that last entertainer. Want to see him?"

"Yep," Jared answers. He's in a good mood--the grilled salmon and pilaf had been excellent, as well as the Pouilly Fuisse. He might not even dock the new guy for his lateness.

"Jared, this is Jensen Ackles, fresh from the New York City club. Stuart says he's a hot ticket there." Chad turns to usher a young man closer to the table.

Jared looks into the greenest eyes he's ever seen. Ridiculously curly lashes set them off perfectly. Smooth skin with a delicious smattering of tiny freckles, like he just came in off the beach. And that mouth...

"Jesus Christ, boy. Come here," Jared orders.

Jensen comes close enough for Jared to smell his cologne and see the shadow of pink nipples under a mesh shirt. Jared reaches a hand out and runs his thump across the bottom lip of a mouth that is decadently, sinfully plush. His cock moves inside his pants, responding to the beautiful man in front of him. Unable to resist, Jared pinches that lip.

Jensen smacks Jared's hand off.

Everyone stares in shock. Chad about has a stroke, his face turns so red.

"That'll be twenty. Touch anything else, it's fifty. Below the belt, one hundred," drawls Jensen, cool as ice. His eyes stay fixed on Jared.

Jared stares at him. Anger is his immediate reaction; hot, stifling, choking anger. It's all he can do not to strike Jensen across the face. Only the knowledge that a face like that will make a mint for the club stays his hand.

Then, he laughs.

Everyone else is frozen. Only Jensen moves, crossing his arms--Jesus, check out those biceps, part of Jared's brain thought--and coolly surveyed Jared. 

"Jared Padalecki," says Jared, extending his hand. Jensen looks at it, then Jared, and shakes the hand.

"Jensen Ackles."

"So I hear. Welcome aboard, Jensen."

The heavy beat of music resonates through Jensen's body as he weaves his way through the crowded dance floor. He feels hands brushing against him--his chest, his hips, his ass. They're all fleeting touches. His demeanor is enough to say he's not available.

This is his first assignment here at Foreplay. He's not nervous. It's just another club, another fuck, although for a much bigger fee. He's pretty pleased with the terms that Chad laid out for him. Apparently his reputation preceded him, plus Padalecki liked his "sass".

Players are players, wherever they are.

He goes to alcove #4. Samantha F. greets Jensen warmly, leaning forward so he can see right down her dress to Down Under. She's older, but very attractive. Thick hair in a sophisticated cut, simple but elegant dress in a rich bronze color. Her breasts are full and firm, and Jensen doesn't think it's from surgery. Her voice is husky and welcoming.

"So, Jensen, you're new to the Long Beach area. How do you like it so far?"

Her hand is on his knee. Then it's sliding up his thigh. Cupping his balls. He smells her expensive, but subtle, perfume. Her nipples are already hard, pressing through the thin fabric pulled taut across her bosom. What really counts, though, is her smile is genuine.

Jensen can look forward to this one. 

He says, "I think it's going to be great." Then he slides down and keeps looking into her eyes as he gently parts her thighs.

"How's he been doing?" Jared asks Chad. Chad's been circulating, checking on the new dancers and entertainers, seeing how everyone is acclimating. So far, so good. But Chad doesn't even have to ask who Jared is referring to.

"Excellent. His first date was Sam. She tested his oral skills, then had him fuck her. A plus across the board." Chad settles into the booth and signaled for a beer.

"Great," replies Jared. His dick is very interested in the mental picture of Jensen's mouth on Sam's pussy, then his cock plunging into her. Jared shifts, trying to get more comfortable. "Who's next?"

"Kurt." Chad grins. "He's gotta get thrown into the fire, might as well be now."

Jared rolls his eyes. Kurt is a blow-hard--a posturing sack of shit with a smarmy smile and a damp handshake. He's a bottom, no problem, but he's halfway to impotent. It takes some skillful dicking to get him off successfully.

"You suck," Jared says to Chad. "I want a report ASAP."

Jensen is less happy with his next assignment. Alcove #7 has one guest too, but this time it's an older man, mostly bald, with sharp, shadowed eyes and a sardonic grin. Jensen's hackles go up immediately. This is the kind of guy who pushes the rules, tries to get more than he's paid for.

And doesn't care if he hurts someone.

Jensen is on guard as he greets Mr. Fuller.

"Please, call me Kurt," the man says. He leers at Jensen. "You're new. I'm flattered to be included on your first night."

"Oh, are you a regular?" Jensen inquires politely.

"Yes, and I can tell already that I'd be happy to see you regularly." Another leer. Jensen makes a mental note to see if he can have a 'no way Jose' list here like he did in New York.

Tonight, though, he has a job to do.

"What would you like tonight?" Jensen licks his lips. Maybe he can get away with just a blow job. He doesn't really want to fuck this guy's wrinkly ass.

"This first," answers Kurt, unzipping his fly. "And then...we'll see. I have plenty of time."

 _Oh great,_ thinks Jensen. He takes a deep breath, smiles at Kurt, and falls to his knees.

"That report you wanted on Jensen and Fuller? I think it's on the way." Chad nods out to the floor. "Here comes Kurt."

And indeed, there he is, barreling through the dancers, heading for Jared.

"Kurt! How are you tonight?" Jared greets him with fake cheer. "I hope everything was...satisfactory?"

Kurt kisses his fingertips, blowing it into the air. "Fantastic! That new boy, Jen--Jer--"

"Jensen," Jared supplies dryly.

"Jensen! He is--well, he's not only gorgeous, but he fucks like a dream! A veritable dream! I never came so hard. Jizz everywhere. Magnificent!" Kurt smiles beatifically. "He's a real keeper, Jared."

"That's my plan, Kurt." Jared smiles back, showing all of his teeth. Fortunately, Kurt doesn't know what that means. Chad does, and he blanches.

"Well, good night. Time to get home to the missus." Kurt tips an imaginary hat and turns away. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jared picks up his cell phone. 

"Stephen? Cancel Kurt Fuller's account. And notify the door that he is no longer to gain admittance here."

Chad stares at him. "What are you doing? He's a good customer, brings people in."

Jared snorts. "I think we can survive the loss of Mr. Fuller's business. I'd like to think we cater to a higher level of clientele than that." He drinks the rest of his vodka. "I'm going to circulate for a bit."

"Okay," says Chad. "Whatever you say, boss."

Jared strolls around the club, nodding and greeting people. He ignores the flirtatious winks and smiles directed at him, because he already has a goal in mind. There's only one person that he's interested in finding right now.

He slips through the Employees Only door, stopping in the hallway for a moment. The break room for the dancers and entertainers is open a crack, and he peeks through it, searching for his target.

Jensen sits in the break room, drinking from a water bottle and smiling at someone. As Jared watches, Jensen laughs, his head tipping backwards and showing the lovely line of his throat. Jared wants to grab him, lick up that throat, bite those plump lips. His cock jumps at the thought.

Instead, Jared walks into the room. A couple of dancers are also relaxing, including the new blonde girl, Nicky. Jared lets his eyes slide over her, and she responds with a wink as she licks her lips. The invitation is unmistakable. Jared flashes her a smile--message received. He'll get around to her in due time.

For now though, his focus is Jensen, whose smile has vanished. He's regarding Jared with...intent? Maybe, disdain? Really? Jared chuckles mentally. Taking this gutsy boy down is going to be fun.

"Ladies, excuse us," Jared says peremptorily. The dancers scramble to exit. Jared shuts the door behind them, dragging a chair over and shoving it under the knob.

"I could yell for help. Claim harassment," Jensen says coolly. He doesn't move, lounging on the couch, one ankle resting on the other knee. His green eyes are calculating, but his mouth is relaxed.

"You could. Of course, I'm the owner, so no one would listen to you." Jared moves closer until he's next to Jensen, looking down at him.

"Sheesh. This how you get all your tail?" Jensen seems unfazed. His eyes drop to Jared's crotch. "You looking for something?"

"You. Your mouth. Your ass." Jared unbuckles his belt, undoes his fly. He pushes his silk boxers down enough to let his cock spring out. It's already half hard, weighty and thick. Jared runs a hand down the length of it. "Here's where you decide what you want at Foreplay."

Jensen looks at Jared's dick, then back up to his eyes. "Nice cock."

Jared smirks.

Jensen pushes himself forward, sliding down to his knees. He maintains eye contact as he licks up Jared's cock, root to tip and back. His tongue laps over the flushed, fat head, tip probing the slit, making Jared hiss. Jared watches, fascinated, as those plush lips encircle his dick and slowly, oh so slowly, slide all the way down until Jensen has the entire thing in his mouth and throat. 

Jared runs his fingers into Jensen's hair, finding it softer than he expected. Jensen begins to slide up and down, licking Jared's cock like a lollipop, then swallowing it back down again. He doesn't just have a hot mouth--he knows what to do with it. Jared's cock swells, his balls draw up, and he fights to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss a second of this beautiful face pleasuring him. He watches his cock get shiny with Jensen's spit, hears Jensen slurp and hum, sees the man's shoulder move as Jensen starts to jerk off.

"Rub yourself on my leg," Jared orders. Jensen does, rutting hard through his pants against Jared's calf. _No lack of size on him,_ Jared thinks, _boy's packing._

"Gonna come," says Jared. "You better hurry because once I come, you're done."

His eyes do close then, his body overriding the desire to watch. Sparks begin swirling from his dick, waves of pleasure building, rising, exploding in a burst of spunk that floods Jensen's mouth, and makes Jared's knees threaten to buckle. He grunts loudly, pulling Jensen's hair as he thrusts blindly into that hot, wet mouth.

Jared gasps, catching his breath after his orgasm. He blinks and looks down at Jensen.

"Sorry. Maybe next time."

"I don't think so." Jensen uncurls himself. As he rises to his feet, Jared becomes aware of two things. One is that Jensen is really only three or so inches shorter than him, and his shoulders are hella broad. The other is how Jensen's erection is bulging obscenely under the thin, slinky pants he wears. If anything, the shimmer of the material enhances the tent of his dick. 

"What the hell are you talking about? I told you, you had until I came. You're out of time." Jared reaches for tissues from a box on the side table.

"I said, I don't think so." Jensen's voice takes on a commanding note. Jared feels his belly jump at the sound. He scoffs, putting up his best boss manner. No one knows, no one would ever know, the way that kind of tone affects Jared. No one.

Except somehow Jensen seems to have figured it out. Because he has his hands on Jared, spinning him around, pushing him down to kneel on the couch. Ripping his pants down further, so his ass is bared.

Jensen's slapping his ass, smacking it hard. The sound of Jensen's palm on Jared's flesh alone cuts through Jared with a sharp thrill. His cheek smarts, but he hardly has time to process it before the other cheek is similarly treated. The sting is ridiculously exciting.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" Jared barks, pushing back to try and regain his feet.

"Stay down, asshole." Jensen knees Jared in the back of his knee, buckling him back down. "Spread them. Now."

"Fuck you! I don't--"

"I know you don't. But I see how you want it. Want it and need it. Need to be dicked, hard and deep. Right? When's the last time, Jared?" Jensen spanks him again. "You're a bad boy, ignoring what you really want. What you _need._ " A rough tug on each leg leaves Jared spread wide, exposed, his balls hanging. 

"No, I don't--" Jared tries to refute, but his thoughts are scrambled. His cock is already twitching again, taking a definite interest in this unexpected turn of events.

"You will. From me. I fuck a lot of people, Jared. I know what they want, even when they don't. When they try to hide it from themselves, much less the world. And you...you want a cock in your ass, reaming your hole, fucking the crap out of you. You want it, but you can't get it, what with being the big boss man. But I'm going to give it to you. All the dick you can handle."

Jared feels a fat cock head slip over his hole. Something cool dribbles down his crack, and a finger pushes it into him. The cock nudges him again, more lube is applied. And then it pushes in.

 _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck._ Jared's resolve, his so carefully cultivated persona, cracks. With the second thrust, it breaks into pieces.

He moans, whining like any cock slut. Pushes his ass back, straining to be filled.

Jensen chuckles. "See? I knew it. Stop it, I'm driving." A smack, followed by a harsh rub over the burn. "I know what you need. Hold onto that couch back, because I'm gonna ride you hard."

He's a man of his word. His hands lock in a vise grip on Jared's hips. Jensen drives his dick in, his balls snugging up flush against Jared's. A little grind as Jensen's cock settles into its new home before pulling almost all the way out.

_Slam._

Pull.

_Slam._

It takes Jared's breath away. His fingers clench on the couch as he tries to brace himself for each thrust. He can't--there's no way to prepare for the force of each thrust. For Jensen's hips crashing into his pelvis. For how Jensen's fingers sink into Jared's flesh.

For how his body surges into ecstasy, every nerve sizzling with excitement. For how his lungs spasm, searching for air. For the wet slap of Jensen's balls and thighs on Jared's. For the bright pinpricks of pain as Jensen reaches under him and pinches his nipples. Tugs on his balls. Slaps his cock, already hard again and bobbing wildly under Jensen's onslaught.

"See? See how hungry your hole is? Your whole body? Sure, you like to fuck. I don't care about that. Fuck anyone you want. Fuck that little blonde Nicky that you were giving the eye to. But I'm going to be the only one who gets this ass. Do you understand? Only me, Jared. Only me."

Jensen's words are rough and breathless now. Jared feels Jensen's cock harden even more, feels his balls slide up. When the heat of Jensen's ejaculation spurts inside Jared, he comes uncontrollably, dick jerking and spraying over the couch.

Jared sags onto the back of the couch, limbs limp. Jensen pulls out, leaving Jared empty. He can feel Jensen's spunk dribbling out of his hole, down his thighs. He just can't move right now.

A towel and a package of wipes lands on the couch.

"Here, clean yourself up." Jensen is already wiping his dick off, rearranging his slinky pants back up. He's not being mean, just brusque. Jared takes a couple of wipes and swipes at his ass. He looks at the couch.

"I don't think they are gonna help with that." He can't help snicker at the mess on the couch.

"Eh, just turn the cushion over. But you might want to think about reupholstering that." 

Jensen moves to the door, slides the chair aside. He turns back.

"I mean it, Jared. Only me."

Jared nods. "I understand." He gestures vaguely. "But--"

"Of course. Out there, you're the boss. And if you are okay with it, I'll keep working for you. For now."

Jared shook his head. "I'm not okay with it."

Jensen's face hardens. "Fine. I'll be gone—"

"No!" Jared strides over to Jensen. "I just don't want to share." He grabs Jensen, plants his mouth on Jensen's sinful one. It's their first kiss, and it's a humdinger.

"I happen to have an opening for a new dancer." Jared murmurs. He slides his knuckles down Jensen's cheek. "Know anyone who might be interested?"

Jensen smiles, and it's a whole new look on his face.

"I just might."


End file.
